Why must fertility clinic forms be so aggravating?
We have decided to get a second opinion via phone consult with CCRM in Colorado. Supposedly they are the best clinic in the nation, and they have an entire section of their website dedicated to out-of-state patients. We have those 6 2PN embryos in the freezer and don't want to do anything with them until we get second opinions. So, we have a phone consult with CCRM scheduled for early November.
HOWEVER, before that consult, we have to fill out a dizzying array of forms detailing every last bit of information about our medical history, infertility history, puberty history, you name it. I had to call my mom to find out when exactly I got hair in funny places. Because no normal human being remembers when that happens. Boob development, sure. First period I had the month right but was confused about the year, because I had a lovely "January cake" baked by my mom when that momentous occasion arrived. A white cake with vanilla frosting (pushing virginity much?), although red velvet would have been more hilarious. Kind of like the armadillo groom's cake in Steel Magnolias, only more disturbing.
Once I got all that puberty stuff out of the way, it then became apparent that I would need to document every single cycle we've ever done and the outcome. I'm pretty sure this is what sending my medical records over is for, so why I have to also document it all is beyond me. Especially since I had to break out all my folders and notebooks from my obsessive documenting (thank goodness I had that), and then on page 12/13, when I'd hit the radio buttons for NOT PREGNANT, ECTOPIC PREGNANCY, and MISCARRIAGE more times than I cared to, each little mouse click cutting deeper into my heart, feeling the pain of each failure over and over again, IT KICKED ME OUT. I had a massive freakout. Screaming, crying, medical records and notebooks flying. I had to log in again and it had said it wouldn't save, but I had done EVERYTHING the website told me to do. For some reason, despite spending an hour and a half inputting information, I had gotten a pop-up warning me that my session was about to end, so I dutifully clicked on "Extend My Session." It didn't matter. I got kicked out anyway. Luckily, it brought me right back to page 12. UNluckily, I had to fill in every last cycle again. All the failures. All the losses. Again again again. I got almost to the bottom of the page when my wrist hit my mouse's scroll button. IT KICKED ME OUT AGAIN. I pretty much just turned into a puddle at this point. Crying heaving sobs that left flecks of salt water on my glasses. WHY, CCRM? WHY is your website so FRAGILE? Don't you understand that your would-be patients need a robust website that can handle anything so that we don't have to fill in all this pain AGAIN and AGAIN? There was a section for emotional wellbeing, where you were supposed to fill out the stress level from infertility and related pressures on a 1-10 scale, 10 being the worst. The first time through I said 7 (perhaps a little optimistically). The second time through I wanted to write 12, ASSHOLES!!! TWELVE! Thanks to your little website and the detritus of my personal tragedy littering the office floor! I was a seven before but now I am near stroke level! Instead, I wrote 8. Eight because I am not suicidal, I am able to function at my job on a daily basis, I am not a catatonic zombie on the couch. I'd kind of like to be, but I'm not. So I think my ability to not be a childless zombie on the couch earns me an 8 instead of the 10 Bryce was pushing for. I filled everything out again. I had some dates memorized at this point. It got tricky at the end, because I just got to the point where I could not document anymore. I just can't do it. It makes no difference. Although, had I documented the last two cycles, it would have been a little easier to fill out this godforsaken form.
The form is in. The family history is in. The one where I got to chronicle that yes, other women in my family have had trouble conceiving, but that they all have at least one child. NOT ME, though. Still slogging.
Moments like this really make me realize that when these lovely 6 2PNs are gone, whether there is (hopefully) a pregnancy that results in a baby or there is nothing yet again, I AM DONE with this. As of this moment, I don't think that I have it in me to keep going down the medical treatment path after this last frozen. We are seriously needing to reevaluate ourselves and what we truly want. Because I am not willing to sacrifice my well being in every sense of the word for the dwindling hope that I might get pregnant, when pregnancy is such a short part of parenthood overall. I want a baby. I am grappling with the fact that how this baby comes to me is really quite the mystery, but we need to start looking down other roads. So we have the CCRM consult, I am scheduling a consult with another local clinic, and I have requested information on domestic infant adoption. Which will, of course, entail filling out many, many forms of every type of history there is.
For now, though, I am glad that the CCRM paperwork is, for the most part, done. Now I can go and drink a well-deserved margarita. And apologize to Bryce for the infertile banshee I became while buried in the documentation of all my failures. I so wish that all of this could be just a little bit easier.